


Melting Permafrost

by Moostletoe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Depressed Tony Stark, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort-ish, M/M, Somewhat plotless, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony/Bucky if you squint, winteriron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 01:10:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moostletoe/pseuds/Moostletoe
Summary: Out of a years-worth of hard work, strenuous conversations and clashing ideals, the last six months held the most merit. Similarly it was also the most exhausting. By this point in time Anthony Edward Stark would have spent the better half of each passing day amongst the most bigoted, stubborn individuals he ever had the intricacy of meeting. Nothing would prepare him for meeting one James Buchanan Barnes properly this time around.





	Melting Permafrost

Out of a years-worth of hard work, strenuous conversations and clashing ideals, the last six months held the most merit. Similarly it was also the most exhausting. By this point in time Anthony Edward Stark would have spent the better half of each passing day amongst the most bigoted, stubborn individuals he ever had the intricacy of meeting.

The UN council rebuffed against his every case in support of amending the Sokovia Accords, stripping him of his very basic human needs in a haphazard attempt at displacing his legal teams ironclad disposition.

Much to their disdain, Tony Stark returned to the fray ever stronger and backed with a renewed vigor. Armed with a resoluteness about him - a trait heralded by Stark men - and a penchant for business, it was he, a former representative of the accords that managed to sway the hundred governing bodies of the United Nations.

By the eighth month, a new and improved legal document was published, this time in healthy support of superhuman activity and operations. It had been twelve busy, suffocating months since the aptly named "Civil War". A battle between those he may have once considered team mates, perhaps even family. The reminder left a foul taste swimming across his tongue, the familiar tang of coconut burning across his senses.

Dim, cyan blue light shone from the mans chest, the glow of the arc reactor concealed by several layers of clothing meant to stifle the perpetual chill rolling across his spine. After the events that took place in the desolate, frigid bunker of Siberia, a layer of ice had formed over warm, whiskey-coloured hues, along with the replacement of his former crutch. Tony's demeanour had shifted this past year, shades of exhaustion blanketing his once rich complexion, pale and blemished by a lack of food, sleep and time spent worrying over every single thing.

Tony Stark was but a shell of what he once was, a real life equivalent of Atlas himself, bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. On month eleven, he would have managed to secure official pardons for each former member of the Avengers Initiative, alongside one James Buchanan Barnes. The thought of allowing the soldier to rot inside the horrors of his own mind had been tempting, though Tony knew that he had forgiven Barnes long ago, too tired to cling to the now flickering fires of hate.

And now here he stands before a cold January sunrise, bracing his left arm in one hand as he fists a file of pardons in another. It was time for his team to come home, something Tony felt he should be relieved about. The countless hours spent mulling over the same subject was over, replaced now with bi-weekly check ins enforced by United States representatives. While tiresome, they could not compare to exhaustion that plagued him before.

It should have been a breath of fresh air, a chance to start anew, but all that stirred within his hollow chest was cool indifference. Even the notion of Barnes stepping foot inside his compound merely made his heart stutter once or twice before settling into something borderline acceptable. Tony was simply too run-down to care, too busy nursing at the bottle of some expensive alcoholic drink until the cold swirling inside him tapered into something bearable.

He was aware of the disappointed glances Rhodey and Pepper sent his way when they actually bothered to visit him, intent on ignoring the pitying look in their eyes as he laughed off yet another attempt at intervention. On the twelth month, a call was made on a secure line to the King of Wakanda. Tony was well-aware of him housing the now-former fugitives, had known since the very beginning. He had managed to bury down the sting of betrayal bubbling up into his throat, undeniably bothered by the thought of his former-ally rallying behind those that had cost him so much.

﹝•••﹞

But now it did not matter as the line went dead, a series of shivers rolling across his body as he shook off the image of the Winter Soldier ready to take on the world yet again. He had invited the man to his tower, a now lonely and silent place since the others had left. Barnes had practically leapt at the opportunity toward redemption, desperation and obstination his driving qualities.

The very thought inspired a grim smile to spread across his lips, bitterly amused by the irony of their situation. To think the world saw him as nothing more than the merchant of death of old, a man unwilling to allow the events of the past remain exactly that, in the past.

Despite his gallant acts and desire to turn his life around, the public would never allow his failures to die. Tony was well-aware a noose would hang in waiting should he screw up as profoundly as before, because who doesn't love a scapegoat?

But none of that mattered now, not in the cool, unfeeling silence of a tower once bustling with life. There was little to be gained from wallowing in self-pity, not when the window of his guests arrival grew ever smaller as the seconds ticked by. It wasn't the first time in his life where he was blissfully, mournfully alone, and it would not be the last.

Lost in the moment, the mans whiskey-coloured gaze took in the sight peachy cream skies speckled with plumes of alabaster clouds. Hundreds of men and women travelled below, fixated on getting from one place to the next without a second to consider doing anything else. It was a sight a man such as he was grateful to see, burdened by the many trials and tribulations that haunted him in the dead of night.

The brunette had been pushed to the brink of death more times than he cared to admit, namely by those he once considered friends, allies, family even. It is why, despite the cold flowing through his body, he finds himself uneasy.

It would be times like these where his dear JARVIS would recite the weather, time and daily news to him in hopes of quelling the anxiety that stirred within. It was a grounding mechanism he himself hadn't needed to program, courtesy of the evolutionary technology at his disposal and desire to see his creations grow beyond what he once thought conceivably possible.

Now only silence remained, the whisper of machinery his sole companion in the face of his rising panic. It would be days like these where he would bury himself in work, dutifully labouring away in preparation for the next threat that would shadow his doorstep.

Many would go so far as to call him a madman, paranoid at the very least. Tony though? He thought himself to be smart, the perfect mixture of healthy pessimism and a drive to protect the world that proved to be cruel time and time again. It's why he constantly finds himself standing before the city he once fought to protect against an alien invasion of all things, his eyes drifting to an empty part in the sky where that dreadful rift in space had spread like a cancer.

To this day the memory of plummeting from the empty vastness of space was a reoccurring scene in his dreams, claws of fear prickling along his skin as he awakens to the sound of his own screams. No one mentions it when he seems a bit more unkempt than usual, a hoarseness to his voice as he endures yet another meeting with Stark Industries.

But the driving subject that haunts him are the events that took place in a cold, desolate bunker. Flashes of a blue, red and white shield plunging into the glow of his suits reactor remain vivid in his mind, experiencing phantom pains that spread through his chest as the armors metal body burrowed into his flesh.

It was a bloody debacle, one he spent months dwelling on. Now he stands that little bit taller, a thin sheet of ice overcoming the bright-eyed man. He holds onto this grief as he steps away from the glass separating him from the world beyond, starting toward the elevator that has already slid open. He nods his thanks for the ever-perceptive FRIDAY, uncaring of the quiet that echoes in response.

Stepping into the steel contraption, Tony slips his signature shades over his eyes, feeling a smidge of relief over being able to obscure his most obvious tell. As the elevator chimes with his descent, Tony steels himself for the sight that awaits him, burying the wild, violent gaze of the Winter Soldier burned into his memory.

What felt like hours was but a few minutes in the real world, the voice of his AI startling him from his reverie, "Boss, we have reached the basement level, Sargent Barnes is awaiting access just outside."

The genius visibly relaxes at the AI's familiar Irish lilt, pangs of grief reminding him of the friend he lost years prior. But he couldn't afford such vulnerability now, his mind clearing as he squares his shoulders for the upcoming confrontation. He had imagined how this meeting would go down for months now, practically biting at the nubs of his finger nails in apprehension.

Now that he is here though, the man feels strangely numb, unfeeling as the metal doors slide open to reveal the familiar sight of his garage. He had instructed the soldier to take the back entrance, an area restricted only for Happy, Rhodey, Pepper and Tony himself. It had taken a lot for him to school his courage, but alas here he stands before something that would either prove to be a horribly idea, or something tolerable.

"Let's show the Sargent a warm welcome, shall we?"

﹝•••﹞

His posture was stiff from his elevator vantage point, white-knocking the StarkPad held firmly in one hand. A lump had begun to form in his throat, a thick wad of nerves he couldn't swallow down despite himself. For all the confidence he had boasted earlier, Tony felt small in this moment, intimidated by the sound of footfalls echoing down the roadway.

For months he imagined how this interaction would go down, mulling over every conceivable possibility almost obsessively. Everything was riding on this moment, and far be it from the great Tony Stark to make a solid impression.

As the seconds ticked by, cold numbness had begun to radiate throughout his left arm, a sensation he sought to quell as be rubbed the feeling back into his fingers. Tony barely registered the man hunched over his workbench, eyes glazed over and unseeing as he took in the stack of papers on display. Everything about his posture was off, rigid and on-guard in a way Tony was all too familiar familiar with. The brunette was certain that if he was closer, the soldiers breath would be coming in short, panicked reps.

The scene before him was enough to make the genius do a double-take, his brows climbing toward his hairline before settling into a pinched frown. When their eyes met, a clash between stormy-grey and honey-brown, there was a moment of pause.

Under normal circumstances Tony would have recoiled, laughed off the tense atmosphere and moved on. But Tony wasn't exactly normal, was he? He was Iron Man, a superhero beloved and detested by many. He could count the number of people he trusts on one hand, and if that isn't depressing enough, has a list of insecurities and personal issues a mile-wide.

But as he takes stock of the soldiers appearance, he doesn't find any kind of scrutiny in those thunderous depths. Tony isn't aware of what surprises him more, the unguarded posture Barnes is sporting or the easy query sent his way. He must have been deafened by the roar in his ears, for the man offered a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and repeated what he had to say,

"Well if it ain't the Tony Stark.. how've you been?"

His shock must be written across his face, feeling his jaw click uncomfortably as he releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Of all things he never expected Barnes to be so.. casual. It threw the man for a loop, something he didn't particularly appreciate in a situation he still had little to no control over. It left Tony feeling restless and uneasy, but he swallowed that down in favour of offering Barnes a smile with too many teeth,

"The one and only, but I'm certain you knew who I was before, Winter Wonder, otherwise my feelings would be hurt."

He replied with a humourless chuckle, clasping his hands behind his back almost absentmindedly. Tony evaded the question with ease, unwilling to disclose the weight of everything he had experienced these past few months. Not even Pepper knew the full story, a truth he kept hidden away for his own use, fodder for the nightmares that harrowed his mind. The mechanic was quick to dispel such a train of thought, drifting toward the elevator with a sweeping gesture and wink,

"Also, just so you know, I get cranky before my seventh coffee, so don't come bothering me before that and you and I will be just fine."

The soldier merely smiled in return, a glimmer of teeth making its presence. However, a moment later it slid from his visage, replaced by a soft and placid expression. It was almost as though he had noticed the slip and sought to correct it, feigning disinterest as the two approached the elevator in tandem.

As the doors slid shut, effectively sealing them inside a smaller, metallic container, an almost palpable tension spread between them. Back in his prime, James had been quite the talker, a charmer and heartbreaker in his own right. Tony was much the same, but none of these qualities made their presence known.

Almost on cue, both men opened their mouths to say something,

"What are you-"

"I'm sorry-"

Once again brown met gunmetal, surprise and confusion swirling within their respective depths. Tony had to take a moment to process the apology that had instinctively tumbled from the other brunettes lips, a near-whisper heard only due to their proximity. Mouth suddenly dry, something akin to a thoughtful hum tumbled from his lips,

"Why are you apologizing?"

The Stark found himself asking, pinched brows mirroring the sargents furrowed own. Was he voicing his guilt for what had transpired nearly a year prior? Tony wasn't sure if he was ready for that particular can of worms quite yet, discomfort practically radiating off his being.

Under normal circumstances he would have brushed it off, waved his hand and deemed the situation thoroughly diffused. Many of his former teammates would have scoffed at the blatant show of disregard shown for mending bridges. In reality, the genius would have done anything and everything that would have prevented some form of heart to heart from taking place. Even the notion of such left his stomach in knots.

"What am I apolgizin' for? Hell, everythin' if it makes some sorta difference to you."

His tone, while tight, held no kind of accusation in it. Those very same stormy-greys were filled with whispers of pain and regret. Tony felt as though he would be sick. Shaking his head as though it would rid him of the roaring in his ears, Tony stepped further into the elevator, effectively cornering him against the cool metal container,

"Yeah, that's great and all, but can we do this preferably never, Barnes? I have work to do, and I'm not interested in having any slumber parties with you, so let's do what we do best and avoid the problem, yeah? Awesome. Bye."

The uncomfortable thump of his heart sent pain radiating across his chest, a suffocating sensation punching the air from his already damaged lungs. 

He should have known better than to think the matter could be avoided altogether, should have foresaw yet another hope of his to be extinguished thoroughly and effectively. Tony wasn't sure why he figured things would be any different with the soldier. It seemed like the man had a talent for ruining everything concerning him.

As the elevator doors slipped open onto his floor, Tony didn't hesitate to flee from the wounded regard Barnes was sporting, too busy stifling the panic sending him into a spiral. Damn it, he was different now, better than this. Where was that ice choking him now?

"Stark- wait a minute, damn it!" 

A widespread, warm hand encircled his wrist before he could properly escape, just shy of being too loose. Tony knew he could wrench himself from the others grip should the effort be there, but instead he found himself frozen in place.

"Shit, just, listen.. okay? Please."

Swallowing down the bile threatening to suffocate him, the mechanic blinked down at the cool surface below him, his eyes unseeing.

"I- I just wanted to say it before anythin' else. I, I couldn't stand the thought of just ignorin' what happened. An' I know you don't wanna talk 'bout it, hell, I barely can, but I know I gotta say it if we're gonna do this,

"Everythin' is just so fucked up in here, I, I can barely manage it most days. But I needed you to know I am sorry, for everythin'. And I'm grateful that you're even talkin' to me right now, let alone helpin' me out of all people.

"God, I don't even know how you can stand to be near me.."

The confession swiftly evacuated all the air left in his lungs, a bone-deep emptiness souring on the tip of his tongue. Of all the things he expected the man to say, admissions of a low self-esteem were not one of them.

Under better circumstances he may have laughed over how foolish the two of them were, swaddled in their own self-doubt and hatred. He could never come close to saying their situations were similar. Betrayal from a father figure and being left for dead could not compare to seventy years worth of torture.

Against his will a sigh billowed passed his lips, fully-aware he wouldn't be able to flee without acknowledging the Sargent. Begrudgingly, Tony responded in a soft, near inaudible tone,

"Barnes look-"

"No, don't do that to me. I know askin' your forgiveness is too much, I wouldn't even think a doin' that. But I need to say what I did, an you can either hate me for it or whatever.."

A solemn quiet flowed between the two adults, his mind reduced to static at the mention of forgiveness. In truth, Tony had given up on holding James accountable for all that took place between them, his parents, even Siberia. Why the man thought he owed him of all people an apology was both appalling and saddening. 

The engineer had be so prepared to let loose all his fury and anguish on the nearest target, going so far as to let loose a rocket in the man's face. Decades of grief and anger spilled over in one hellish moment, effectively blinded by his rage.

Molten lava had been surging through his veins at the time, waves of hatred churning against his mind as he pinned the man against the armor, his arm secured around the others neck in a chokehold. Tony remembered the venomous hiss that had spilled from his lips asking if he even remember them, his beloved mother whom he'd murdered in cold blood. Recalled the feeling of ice pooling in his chest when the assassin told him remembered those of which he killed. 

The memories still danced in his mind even as his eyes slipped shut, taking in shallow breaths so as to prevent pain from lancing through his chest. Ever since the arc reactor had been surgically attached his lung capacity had taken a hit. Most days his breathing was near-imperceptible, burdened by the painful undertones that accompanied his every move.

"It doesn't change anything."

Tony found himself answering in a clipped tone, angling his head so as to take in his companions response. He was unsurprised to find a crestfallen expression marring Jame's features, his mouth set to a thin line. 

The soldier didn't say anything after that, merely offering a jerky nod before slackening his hold on Tony's wrist and taking a perceptibly sizable step back,

"I understand. Thank you for your hospitality."

Came the robotic response, the words feeling wrong coming from the brunettes mouth. He believed someone who had singlehandedly killed hundreds shouldn't appear so fragile and downtrodden. It was almost a slight against nature.

His jaw clenched and clicked as his eyes bore into the other man’s retreating frame, that very same ice from before making its presence known. Despite the cold washing over him, he did not welcome the numbness that followed.

Clearing his throat so as to gain the others attention, hesitating only when the telltale footsteps came to a stop. Tony straightened his posture and averted his gaze, unwilling to see the hurt on the mans guise. He couldn't afford to lose his bolstered confidence now, 

"I mean, uh- it doesn't change anything because there's nothing to be sorry for. I don't hate you, Barnes."

"What are you..?"

It was then the genius chose to take in James' stock-still posture, defensively stiff indicative of the way the Soldier would move. Further up he could see the curiosity blazing within those placid hues, something akin to hope keeping him rooted in place.

He was getting to old for this. Too much emotion. He had done the world a solid time and time again and yet he was stuck with placating a downtrodden super soldier of all people? Damn it all.

"I don't forgive you because there's nothing to forgive. Hydra is to blame, I know that, and I never hated you, Barnes, contrary to popular belief."

"But I killed your parents.."

"/Hydra/ killed my parents."

Tony responded firmly, his body now angled toward the elevator being held open by his beloved AI. He would make sure to update her software at a later date, perhaps some installments that enabled the wild flights of mischief she was known for.

When he dared meet those crystalline depths, he found insurmountable relief and emotion where there once was pain. His visage remained tight, however, almost as though he was expecting Tony to take back the balm he'd given his soul.

Seconds bled into minutes before Barnes found the courage to move, at war with the voice inside his head, one that screamed bloody murder. It was clear he had been expecting judgement, barely managing to suppress the flinch when they'd stepped into the elevator together.

Tony appreciated he wasn't attempting to pretend as though nothing had happened. He only wished it was done at a later date, something he may have had more control over. He felt horribly out of his element when Barnes backed himself further into the lift, the permafrost covering his eyes cracking ever so slightly.

There would be much to discuss, ground rules to establish, but for now the moment had come to an end. Both would retreat to their respective floors and revel in isolation for a number of days to recover from the blows on their soul.

As the elevators doors slipped shut, a gentle look caressing the soldiers sharp features, Tony once again found himself blissfully alone. FRIDAY remained her ever passive self and uttered not a word in response to their quarrel, however brief it was. He nodded wordlessly toward the ceiling, comforted by her companionable silence.

Despite the memories that would haunt him later that evening, a small, genuine smile lighten his features. For the first time in what felt like forever, Tony felt warm. There was still a bitter cold swirling just below the surface, but it was enough. They hadn't truly solved anything magnificent, but it had acted as a reprieve from their demons and for that Tony could be thankful for.


End file.
